Page 40 of Summoner of Sins

“Your derision is not appreciated.”

Her snort turned into a giggle. Perhaps it had been quite a bit of whisky. “Forgive me, Ironheart, but even I know enough about you to know that you’d be bored in a day with that sort of woman.”

He turned his head assessing her. “I could be very tired of my rakish ways and looking for a simple affection.”

Her hands came to her hips. Ironheart had insisted on seeing Tabbie home today. If Sophie wasn’t mistaken, the air crackled between them. “You could be tired of that life, yes, and ready for a new adventure.”

“Marriage is not an adventure.”

“I beg to differ.” She sniffed. “But regardless, even if you don’t want a complicated relationship, I’m certain you want the sort of…attraction that will keep you engaged for a long time.”

Ironheart stood, staring at her for a long time. “I underestimated you, Miss Wren. You are as bright and vivacious as you are beautiful.”

“Touch her and I will kill you. I don’t care if it’s your house.”

Sophie spun around to find Max standing by the back entrance of the entry that led out to the garden.

Relieved as she was to see him, she gave a startled cry as her gaze flitted down him. He was covered in dirt and…blood. “Max!” She rushed toward him, her heart running wild in her chest.

He opened his arms, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’m so glad to see you, sweetheart.”

She jumped into his embrace with a cry. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. Nothing that some sleep won’t fix,” he murmured into her hair.

“You’re making him downright chatty,” Ironheart called over to them.

She felt Max grumble about his irritation, but she didn’t wish to discuss Ironheart or his comment. “What happened?”

“Good news. Her Majesty’s armed forces caught Lord Whitehouse in the worst sort of treason,” he answered, squeezing her close.

Ironheart jumped from his seat. “You’re serious?”

“Bad news.” Max shook his head. “About sixty of his men saw me and laid chase.”

Sophie let out a cry as she wiggled from his arms and felt his body for injuries.

“I’m unharmed,” he softly said, reaching for her hands and pulling them to his mouth to kiss the back of each.

“What does this mean?” Ironheart asked.

“It means that the Queen will surely take up his capture and imprisonment. Several of her soldiers heard him plainly say he had designs on her throne.”

“Fu—”

“Hey,” Max bit out. “Not in front of the lady.”

Ironheart’s jaw snapped shut, but he smiled. “I got the license. You’re to wed tomorrow.”

Max pulled her back into his arms, dropping his head into the crook of her neck as a shudder passed through him.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers threading into his hair as she pulled him closer, pressing her cheek to his head. Silently, she told him how she loved him, how she’d hold him until the pain of the night passed, of how she’d always be there to do so…

Her eyes drifted closed, the only words she managed to say out loud, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he murmured into her shoulder.

“Ironheart.” She didn’t move. “Would it be too much trouble to have a bath sent to Lord Maxwell’s room?”

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